As Winter Calls
by Skyblaze
Summary: Understanding is a three edged sword: Your side, Their side and The Truth. Harry, Snape and Lucius Malfoy discover understanding, and that it can sometimes be dangerous. Possible HPLM slash later. Ch 4 up!
1. In the still light of dawn

**As Winter calls**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters in the Harry Potter books. They belong to J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Books.

_In the deep cold of night  
Winter calls, he cries, don't deny me..._

The deep blue potion sparkled in the light that refracted through the glass vial it was held it, glittering like a rare jewel.

A pale hand turned the vial this way and that, admiring the colour as if it were a fine wine he was about to sample.

"This is ridiculous." A caustic voice remarked from across the room. The owner of the pale hand holding the delicate vial set it down on the low table before him and turned to address the speaker.

"Not so, Severus," He replied in a cool, aristocratic voice, "It is the perfect plan. Know thine enemy."

Severus Snape, sat bolt upright in a plush chair that was really meant for lounging, fixed his obsidian eyes on his comrade.

"He isn't really our enemy, Lucius." He replied dryly. Lucius returned Snape's look coolly,

"He could be. He could be a greater danger to us than the Dark Lord and Dumbledore combined. This is the matter that concerns me."

Snape snorted disdainfully, "So, you have me spend almost two years working on this potion, distilling the clotted blood I managed to rescue from the floor of that disgusting Chamber, all because you were...concerned." Lucius could here the sarcasm dripping from that last word.

"Yes." Lucius said flatly, "Now stop trying to be clever, Severus, and get on with it."

Severus sighed as if it were some great chore and stood up, setting a small mirror on the table, he tapped it with his wand and muttered the Engorgement charm, making the mirror now roughly a foot in diameter. He carefully took up the vial and poured its contents over the surface of the mirror and murmured another spell, tapping the mirror frame lightly.

The mirror surface swirled and rippled like an angry sea for a moment, before the image within the glass resolved into the inside of a house. A house containing a young boy with messy black hair, who was quietly shuffling around a kitchen.

Lucius and Severus exchanged a look, surprised that the somewhat unlikely plan had actually succeeded.

_In the still light of dawn, he cries,  
Helpless hands soul revealing.._

Harry Potter tried to move as silently as possible, catching the slider on the toaster before it could pop up and make a noise and potentially wake up his relatives...which he knew would mean he got no breakfast, and probably no lunch, either.

He smothered to toast in marmalade, then returned the jar to its cupboard, making sure it didn't shut too loudly. He turned and looked out across the well-kept garden, admiring how the pale dawn light spilled across the immaculate lawn. He liked this time of day, no noise, no bullying cousins, shrill aunts or arrogant uncles.

Then, he froze as he heard the distinct sounds of upstairs floorboards groaning under a considerable weight.

Harry cursed himself. He should have crept back to his room the way he usually did instead of pausing to admire the dawn.

But there was no help for it now as his fat oaf of a cousin waddled into the kitchen, no doubt searching for something to stuff his face with.

Beady eyes fixed on Harry, and on the toast he was eating, an expression of confusion on his bloated features.

"You shouldn't be down here." Dudley said, and then the confusion lifted as his piggish face twisted into an unpleasant grin, "I'll tell Dad."

"Good." Harry said through gritted teeth, "You do that." He began to make his way around his cousin's bulk, aiming for the door, but before he got there, Dudley's fat fingers reached out and snatched the toast from Harry's hand.

"Give that BACK!" He snapped, charging forward...but he didn't get too far. Dudley's other arm shot out with all the force of his boxing training behind it and Harry found himself flying straight across the kitchen and into the conservatory.

Only the conservatory doors were not open.

Glittering glass shards fell in front of Harry's eyes, shining like snowflakes before Harry lost consciousness.

_Like leaves we touch, we learn  
We once knew the story_

_"Finate incantatem!"_ Severus snapped, and the mirror returned to its natural state. The Potions Master had his fingers wrapped so tightly around his wand that his knuckles were turning white. "I've seen enough." He grated.

Lucius shook his head, "No." He said, "The fact that his cousin is an overweight, uncouth bully means nothing. We must know more."

Lucius fixed his own silver/grey eyes on Snape's black ones, and raised an eyebrow, "You seem...somewhat more upset by this, that I would have expected, Severus." 'considering who it is we're dealing with', he added silently.

Snape shoved his wand violently back into his robes and glared at Lucius.

"I dislike being lied to," He said shortly, "Now, if you'll excuse me..." With that, he walked out, the door slamming shut behind him.

Lucius considered that cryptic remark as he unstopped a decanter of fine brandy and poured himself a generous measure. He wondered who it was who had lied to Severus...and what other surprises they would find lurking in the house of Potter's relatives.


	2. Time has caught him

**Chapter Two **

_Time has caught him  
And will for all reasons take him.._

The mirror lay smashed in the middle of the room, its shards scattered into the deep navy carpet, destroyed after Severus had finally lost control of himself, seeing through the scrying glass the image of Harry Potter, shoved against the wall, his fat uncle tightly gripping his hair with one pudgy hand, holding the boy at arms length as he methodically beat him with a leather belt for the transgression of burning an elaborate lamb dinner.

Lucius tapped his long fingers together, absently watching the house elves scurry around clearing up the many shards of glass littered around. Severus was in the far corner of the parlour, facing the wall, his harsh breathing testament that he had not as yet recovered his temper.

At first, the Potions Master had ranted for ten straight minutes about how Dumbledore had lied to him, telling him that Harry Potter was 'well taken care of' - from there, Snape's dark thoughts and still seething jealously and resentment against the boy's father had led him down a rather predictable path. Severus had assumed the boy was spoiled, lavished with affection and material things...all the things his father James had been given...and all the things Snape had never received as a child.

The truth was something else entirely.

The boy was barely fed, his clothing was clearly second-hand and hung from his bony frame like rags...he even had to sneak out for the simple pleasure of feeling the sun on his face, while his 'family' lived comfortably on the back of his labour. Lucius idly wondered how on earth they coped when the boy was at school, as they seemed incapable of performing the simplest task by themselves. And it wasn't like they had magic; after all...Lucius' eyes darkened from pale silver to a forbidding stormy grey...muggles making a wizard into something less than a house elf. Intolerable.

Lucius was drawn from his musings by the sound of a dull thud. He turned slightly to see that Severus's fist had struck the wall. For a moment, Lucius considering making a dry comment about not damaging the paintwork until he saw the expression on Snape's face - it was twisted into a snarl of rage, but his eyes had tears in them.

"We will not leave him there, Severus." Lucius said softly.

"How do you propose we get him out?" Severus growled, "We'd be defying not only Dumbledore, but the Ministry...and Merlin knows what would happen if the Dark Lord found out..."

Lucius smiled slightly and summonsed a quill and parchment, quickly writing a note and sealing it. "You are so sceptical, Severus. There are always ways and means." His sly smile became broader as Severus gave him a frankly uncertain stare, "But for this to work, first we will need the boy in our custody."

Snape's expression transformed into a nasty smile.

"Oh good." He said silkily, "I would certainly like to have...a few words with those muggles."


	3. To see the stone be life

**Chapter Three**

_As Winter calls he will starve  
All but to see the stone be life_

The still air of the foyer of Malfoy Manor was disturbed by a sudden sharp 'pop!' followed by an agitated voice yelling a name.

"Narcissa!" Lucius almost screamed. The boy he held closely in his arms whimpered slightly and tried to twist out of his grip, "Shhhh," He tried to soothe even as he ran his distressed gaze over the beaten, underfed form of the Boy-Who-Lived. Moving as gently as he could, he set the boy down on a nearby divan. He wasn't skilled in medicinal spells, but he had enough experience in various injuries - both receiving and causing them - that he recognised how serious some of these were, some of the bruising on the torso was deep enough to reach the major organs. Lucius felt a sharp pain in his hands and only then realised that his hands were clenched so tight his nails were biting into his palms.

Then, he heard the rapid patter of slippered feet descending the stairs and sighed in relief as he saw his wife appear, her light blue dress swirling about her ankles as she rushed down the stairs.

"By Salazar, Lucius," She gasped when she caught sight of Harry, "What happened?"

"I'll explain in a moment, Narcissa." He said tightly, "But for now, you'll need your kit."

She nodded and left again, searching for her medi-kit. Lucius took the opportunity to rid himself of his bloodstained waistcoat and shirt, asking one of the house elves to bring him some more clothes while he kept an eye on Harry.

Potter's breathing was shallow, raspy, almost gurgling and Lucius shuddered to think what that might mean. A house elf reappeared with his new clothes, and he dressed quickly as Snape appeared in the foyer accompanied by the faint 'pop' of apparation. The Potion Master's face was set, his mouth a thin line as his gaze lingered on Harry's battered body, his usually sallow skin even paler than usual.

"Severus?" Lucius asked carefully, knowing just how his old friend had been affected by what he had seen in that house.

"It's been taken care of." Snape replied shortly, "They will not remember our identities or when the boy was taken." Snape's lips curled up into a slight smirk, "I'll think of some suitable...chastisements later."

It was then that Narcissa rushed back in carrying her black kit, filled with potions, salves, bandages and various other bits of useful medical equipment. She set to work without a word, cleaning off the worst of the blood, and removing what remained of the boy's clothes with a tightly controlled severing charm. Lucius watched his wife tend to her new 'patient' with something like pride. She had wanted to be a Healer since she had been young, but her parents had decreed that it wasn't a suitable profession for such a high-born, pure-blooded woman as her and forbidden it. But she had diligently continued her studies in secret, a fact for which Lucius had had any number of occasions to be grateful for after a particularly vicious punishment from the Dark Lord. Narcissa certainly had plenty of practical experience of healing such injuries.

Potter's eyelids fluttered, jade-green eyes peeking out from under soot-black lashes. There was a flash of terror in those eyes, quickly controlled, and a stifled groan emerged from his lips and he tried to speak,

"Malfoy?" He croaked, "Why are you...?" He coughed, a gurgling sort of sound like someone drowning.

"Hush, Potter," Snape said sternly from his position behind the divan, "Just lie still."

"Professor?" He gasped, sounding even more bewildered, "What..." Whatever else he was about to say was interrupted with another wracking, gurgling cough. Narcissa flicked her wand and summoned a deep basin, even as Harry bent almost double and began to cough up great gouts of dark, clotted blood.

"That's it," Narcissa crooned encouragingly, rubbing the boy's back gently, "Get it all up." Lucius looked away. It was not a pretty process.

When the boy had finished coughing, Snape stepped around into Potter's line of sight, taking a vial of deep blue potion from inside his robes, Lucius recognised it instantly as a calming potion - one of Severus' special mixtures, no doubt.

Potter fixed his un-blackened eye on his potions professor, confusion and a dose of fear written on his features.

"Why?" He croaked, his throat too raw to say anything else. Snape sighed in irritation.

"Everything will be explained to you, Potter. But for now, just drink this and attempt to relax." Snape handed him the vial, which he took with one bruised hand, but made no move to drink, his expression still uncertain. It was then that Lucius decided to step in.

"No one will harm you here, Mr. Potter. You will be healed, fed and cared for - you will not be returning to those muggle relatives of yours." On the last part, he allowed some of the contempt and anger he felt for those muggles to come out in his voice and expression.

Harry regarded Malfoy for a moment with an unnervingly frank and direct gaze, and then he unstoppered the potion and drank it. Lucius watched as he relaxed and stilled, his painful-looking muscle twitches calming, then he snapped his fingers to call a house elf, ordering the blue room in the east wing to be prepared for their guest.

Narcissa stood up, "I'll need blood-replenishing potion, some wound-healer and some bruise salve. I don't have enough in my kit for injuries this extensive," Though she tried to keep her voice calm and professional, Lucius could hear the slight tremble in it. He laid one comforting hand against his wife's arm even as he exchanged a look with Severus.

"I'll get to work right away." The Potions Master declared, turning and heading towards the potion labs in the lower floor, his black robes billowing behind him.

Lucius looked down to see Potter regarding him with one wary green eye; the other was still blackened and swollen shut. It appeared that he had accepted the situation; he still wasn't investing his trust in any of them. All the better, the boy was no idiot after all, despite Severus' frequently-heard opinion to the contrary.

"Why are you doing this?" Potter asked, his voice cracked and hoarse. Lucius raised an eyebrow at him.

"Because I can. And because I wish to. All other explanations can wait until later." The boy did seem to appreciate honestly and directness. "I will be carrying you to your room, now." A weary nod was his only response as Lucius bent to pick him up and carry him to the room he would be occupying for a while.

He set the boy down on the blue-draped bed. Harry sighed softly, the cool satin sheets felt good against his inflamed back. Lucius smiled and gently brushed Harry's black hair away from his eyes.

"Rosie." Lucius called softly, and a young house elf appeared with a pop.

"Yes sir, Master Lucius. What can Rosie being doing for Master?" She asked in her squeaky voice.

"Fetch a bowl of warm water and several cloths and towels." He ordered. His eyes fell on the torn and bloody remains of Harry's clothes and he added, "And tell Ms. Darien to join us."

"Yes sir, Master Lucius." The house elf replied, and disappeared again.

A bowl of water and several soft cloths appeared moments later and Lucius set about cleaning Harry of blood and dirt, every revealed injury made him angrier. Open and bleeding, closed and half-healed, faint scars from wounds received long ago. Impossible to believe no-one knew of this. It was inconceivable that the all-seeing Dumbledore had been ignorant of his golden boy's plight. So why had he left him to live in pain and fear? Why?

Lucius Malfoy hated mysteries, and he determined he would get answers, one way or another - for his own sake as much as Harry's.

Lucius finished his task and drew a sheet up over Harry's drowsing form - Severus' potion had clearly done its' work well. He took a moment to regard him. Beneath the bruising, there was a subtle beauty to his features, high cheekbones, and long soot-dark eyelashes complemented his almost delicate face. And when he was healed and fed up a little, he would undoubtedly have a toned and athletic body.

A waste to see him in this pitiful condition, Lucius thought sadly, Hale and healthy, he would be a magnificent sight.

His musings were interrupted by a knock at the door just before Jaice Darien, his personal assistant, walked in.

"You sent for me, sir?" She asked matter-of-factly.

"Yes," He replied, "I need you to go through some of Draco's old clothes and see if you can find anything that will fit Mr. Potter, here."

Her eyes were drawn to the figure on the bed, and she drew in a sharp breath when she realised just who it was, but she regained her composure quickly,

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

Lucius considered it for a moment, and then a thought occurred to him, "Mr. Potter will be staying with us for some time. Can you please look into the procedures regarding fosterage and guardianship? We may need to fight the Ministry on this." He didn't mind telling this to Jaice, he knew where her loyalties lay.

Her back straightened slightly, a slight smile touching her lips at the thought of getting on over on Fudge.

"Understood, sir," She smiled, "I'll get right on it."

As Jaice left the room, Lucius took a seat by the bed, watching over his new guest, this injured young man in his charge, waiting for Narcissa and Severus to return and complete their respective tasks.

Harry whimpered in his sleep, twisting to get away from some dreamt-of horror.

On impulse, Lucius reached out to hold the boy's hand and felt him relax slightly, his slender fingers curling around his own.

Lucius smiled.


	4. Form out of stone

**Chapter Four**

_Realising a form out of stone  
Set hands moving..._

"Lucius," The light voice of his wife halted the Lord Malfoy's progress down the hallway as he turned to see what she wanted.

"Narcissa," he greeted her, "How are you today, my dear?"

"I'm well," She replied perfunctorily, but there for a worried frown creasing her brows, "Lucius, I need to speak to you about our guest,"

"Oh?" He asked, one pale eyebrow winging upwards. It had been two days since he and Snape had rescued the boy from his relatives, and he had yet to regain consciousness. "How is your patient?"

"Recovering, and gaining strength," She answered, "But…far too slowly for someone with as much raw power as he has. It's as though something were damping his magic somehow,"

This time, it was his turn for a frown to furrow his brow. Magical healing, for the most part, relied on drawing up and enhancing someone's magical aura to speed recovery. Hence, someone with a lot of power would recover more swiftly than someone with very little. Anyone who had ever seen Harry Potter in a temper knew he had a very powerful aura, so this development was troubling.

"But what could do that? Magic damping spells last only a matter of hours, according to Severus he's been with those muggles for months, long enough for even a containment potion to have worn off by now,"

"I know, Lucius. That's what's bothering me. The only other way I know to damp someone's natural magic that way is through a compulsion or geas."

Lucius' lips thinned into a pale line as that thought registered. He snapped his fingers, and a House elf dutifully appeared.

"Kerrie," He addressed the elf, "Summon Master Snape and Ms. Darien to the sitting room. Tell them it is of import concerning our guest."

"Yes sir, Master Lucius," The old elf bowed before vanishing with a pop.

Taking Narcissa's arm gently, he led her to the main sitting room to wait for Severus and Jaice. Taking a seat in his favourite leather wingback chair, he let the tasteful, comfortable surroundings relax him.

"Lucius, husband? Is everything all right?" Narcissa asked him.

He exhaled slowly, "I don't know yet, Narcissa, but I'm starting to think that we haven't been proactive enough. Or situation is precarious enough as it is, balanced on a knife edge between both sides of a war, it wouldn't take much to make us fall. We need to choose a direction, even if we don't choose a side,"

Understanding crossed his wife's face, "And you believe Harry Potter is the key? You think he'll be capable of freeing us, and Draco, don't you?"

"The boy needed help, it's highly likely he would have died without our intervention, and I was not prepared to let that happen. However…" A sly smile touched Lucius' lips, "However, I won't deny that it did occur to me that he could be a great deal of help to us. Call it enlightened self-interest, if you like."

Narcissa shook her head, but there was a fondness in her smile, "You always did like to play more than one game at once, Lucius,"

"To the consternation of any number of Ravenclaws over the years," Snape's voice cut in. The Potions Master glided into the room, followed by the smaller and far less intimidating from of Jaice Darien.

"Quite," Lucius confirmed with a smirk.

"So, what's this about Mr. Potter? Has he managed to cause trouble even while unconscious?" Snape said, setting down on a plush sofa and attempting to hide his concern beneath the acid of his tone.

Lucius gave his old friend and appraising look, not fooled by Snape's unconcerned pose for a moment, "You are too intelligent a wizard to have missed the obvious, Severus. Harry is not recovering as swiftly as he should be,"

An indefinable emotion flickered in Snape's obsidian eyes for a second before he replied with a simple, "Yes."

Lucius rose from his chair, pacing the room thoughtfully, "The first step to solving the problem is defining it. So then, what is the underlying problem?"

"As I already told Lucius," Narcissa began, "The only reason I know that this would be happening is because his magical aura has been dampened somehow,"

Severus frowned, "I tested him for any poisons or impairing potions, they turned up negative. Until we came for him, he'd had no contact with the magical world outside of owl post for two months, so we can also rule out damping spells,"

"Then that just leaves us with magical compulsions, draining magic or a geas," Jaice's soft voice broke in, "From what I've heard, we can rule out imperius or the Master's Voice spell,"

"Yes," Snape agreed, "Potter is quite capable of throwing those off,"

"I've seen no sign of the kind of damage left by a draining spell," Narcissa said thoughtfully, "And a geas needs to be anchored to a amulet to work for so long without close contact from the caster."

"So, what does that leave us with?" Lucius mused.

There was a moment of silence before Severus stood and made his way to the drinks cabinet, pouring himself a measure of firewhisky and downing it.

"There's one other possibility," Severus said, his voice hoarse, as though what he was saying were a great struggle. The muscles in Snape's jaw were tight, as though he were holding back his emotions.

"Go on, Severus," Narcissa encouraged. Snape took a breath.

"Consider this; You are a child, raised by people who despise you. You try desperately to please them, to no avail. You try to do exactly as they say, to be precisely what they want you to be, to avoid the beatings and perhaps, if you prove yourself worth enough, to gain their approval, even their affections.

Consider that these people also hate and fear magic. Every single display of your magical heritage, even the mention of it, is punished severely. Under those circumstances, wouldn't you try desperately to repress that magic? Come to resent or even hate that part of yourself that makes them hate and fear you?"

There was a horrified silence in the plush sitting room as each person there attempted to digest that information. It fit, oh, it fit in so many ways.

All reports had said that Harry Potter had an insanely powerful magical aura, but his progress at school had been erratic, his learning patchy. He had trouble mastering some of the most basic principles of magic, and yet could almost effortlessly cast the Patronus charm - a skill rarely attained by most full-grown wizards.

"Severus," Lucius said in an unsteady voice, "Are you saying that the magic dampening is _self-inflicted_?"

"I'm afraid so." Severus confirmed, and despite the careful control in Snape's voice, Lucius could tell that his old friend felt as sick as he did.

TBC


End file.
